#out of anyone midnight deserves that the most I think

[lavenderprose]

I don't think my Rook is a virgin or even particularly inexperienced; they're like thirty and the Mourn Watch seems to know how to fuckin party if the Hezenkoss plotline is any indication. However there's something that resonates with me about Emmrich being their first for OTHER things like:

- First time being brought breakfast in bed (Rook cries. Emmrich panics. Darling, it's JUST oatmeal!)

- First time actually taking a midnight stroll while holding hands? Rook thought that was just. Romance serial behavior. People don't actually DO that. Then they're in Treviso very late one night and making their way back to the Diamond and Emmrich pulls them close while walking along the canal, wraps their hand in his (Big. Warm. Long fingers) and kisses the back of their palm and just? Doesn't let go? For the rest of their walk?

- First time being apologized to in an argument? Rook is very used to people who are opinionated and knowledgeable--the Mourn Watch is basically a university meets a corporation meets a seminary (In the WORST kind of way, at times) so you're constantly meeting people who are singularly convinced of their own expertise. Rook, themself, can be pretty opinionated. The first time Rook disagrees with Emmrich on something and it gets a little heated, they figure they'll go cool off for a little bit and then go tell Emmrich how Special He Is just to put the argument past them, because that's what worked in the past, with other situationships. To their surprise, Emmrich finds them fifteen minutes later and sits down on the floor with them, huge old text book on his crisscrossed legs, and says, "Darling, I can't apologize enough. I looked it up and actually, you were correct--" Rook takes the textbook out of his lap and replaces it with themself.

- Most importantly, Emmrich is the first partner to make Rook feel like they can truly just...unmask. Be themself, and that not only will Emmrich tolerate that but ENJOY that. Emmrich enchants an orb to play the echoes and creaks of the Necropolis at night so that Rook can sleep better in the silent Fade; he spends an hour gently rubbing Rook's head after they snap at him one night because he realizes they're having a migraine. He's also, like, y'know, very very good in bed and seems to be genuinely horny for a lot of this stuff. Like, caring for Rook seems to genuinely DO IT for him y'know?

Rook tells him, "I've never had anyone love me the way you do," and Emmrich just tilts his head and smiles at them in that sweet, beautiful way of his.

"Darling," he says, "As the man who loves you, I can with confidence say that the others were doing it wrong. This is how you deserve to be loved, and shall be, so long as I breathe air--and perhaps long afterward as well."

Rook starts crying. Again.

[mitternacht]

MY FUCKIG. BABEY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU. YOU ARE SO BEAUTIFUL. KILL THAT UGLY BITCH YOU DESERVE IT

[calamitys-child]

I'm being so serious rn if I ever talk about doing another fringe festival run in the next like 3 years at least send me to fucking therapy. It is a cry for help. This is bad for me.

[lpsgirl109]

I would absolutely love for at least one of my friend groups to completely go all out for me for my birthday. The way girls at school get huge sashes and gift baskets from their friends. I've never really had that. I've never really had a group of friends band together to do something super special for my birthday aside from getting on call with my two best besties to play roblox. Which i guess is a bit disheartening because I've organized stuff like this for several people. I've put together calls so we could all sing happy birthday to someone and celebrate with them. Hell, not even a birthday celebration, but i once organized a going away party with my entire friend group for one of our friends who was moving to another state, because i loved them i wanted to them to know they'd be loved and missed by us. It would be nice to be on the receiving end of that but also it feels really silly to just Ask my friends to plan something special for me cause 1. Those are supposed to be surprises 2. I know it is My birthday and I have every right want to be treated like the center of the universe but I still feel very selfish asking people Hey can you make this day all about me and put effort into it please. Also it feels less genuine when people have to be Asked to celebrate me yknow. Idk maybe the realization that I'm turning 18 years old is finally fully kicking and that's what's got me down lately but man. For my birthday I really just want to know that I'm loved and wanted and not a nuisance that pisses people off every time I open my mouth

[caplanbuckybarnes]

The Devil's Tailor (mafia!bucky barnes)

Summary: you work for dangerous criminals, most notably, the mafia leader himself, when they need new suits and dresses for political statements.

Warnings: mafia au, a smidge of flirting

WC: 630ish

Read on AO3!

--

The faint scent of cigar smoke clung to the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly pressed fabric. You stood behind the counter of your little tailor shop, fingers delicately threading a needle as if the world outside didn’t exist. But you felt it—the weight of his gaze before he even spoke.

“Miss Y/L/N,” came the low, gravelly voice. “You’ve outdone yourself again.”

You didn’t look up immediately, letting the final stitch slide into place before tying it off. “You say that every time, Mr. Barnes.”

Finally, you raised your eyes to meet his, and there he stood, James Buchanan Barnes, the most dangerous man in the city, dressed in a suit you’d made for him just weeks ago. The midnight blue fabric clung to his broad shoulders like a second skin, the silver cufflinks gleaming under the dim light. Everything about him screamed power, from the glint of his vibranium hand to the calculated smirk playing on his lips.

But it was his eyes that caught you—the sharp, steel-blue gaze that seemed to strip away every layer of pretense.

“Well,” he drawled, stepping closer. “Maybe it’s because you deserve the compliment every time.”

You fought to keep your composure, placing the freshly finished tie on the counter between you. “Flattery won’t get you a discount.”

His smirk deepened, and he reached for the tie, his fingers brushing yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Besides, you’re worth every penny.”

“You mean my work is,” you corrected, stepping back to give yourself some breathing room. “What can I do for you this time?”

Bucky leaned against the counter, his presence overwhelming in the small shop. “I need something special. A suit for a meeting.”

You arched a brow. “Special how?”

His expression turned serious, the playful air dissipating. “Let’s just say this meeting might be… heated.”

You nodded, understanding the unspoken words. A bulletproof vest wouldn’t suit his needs, but a suit lined with discreet protective layers? That, you could do.

“I’ll need measurements again,” you said, grabbing your tape measure.

“Think I’ve grown?” he teased, but his tone lacked its usual lightness.

You walked around the counter, gesturing for him to stand straight. “Arms out,” you instructed.

He complied, and as you worked, you couldn’t help but notice the scars peeking out from his collar, the tension in his shoulders, the slight weariness in his eyes.

“You trust me with this?” you asked quietly, your fingers grazing his wrist as you measured.

Bucky’s gaze softened, his voice dropping to a murmur. “I trust you with more than that, doll.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, and for a moment, you forgot about the tape measure in your hands.

“Why me?” you whispered, meeting his eyes. “You could go anywhere. Hire anyone.”

He tilted his head, a small smile curving his lips. “Because you don’t ask questions. You don’t judge. And, most importantly…” His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face. “You make me look damn good while keeping me alive.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced yourself to focus, clearing your throat. “Well, let’s hope this suit does the trick.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “If anyone can pull it off, it’s you.”

As you finished taking his measurements and scribbled notes, Bucky lingered by the counter, his eyes never leaving you.

“You know,” he said as he turned to leave, “they call you The Devil’s Tailor out there.”

You smirked, crossing your arms. “Only because I work with the devil himself.”

Bucky’s grin was wicked, his eyes glinting as he opened the door. “Careful, doll. Keep talking like that, and I might just make you mine.”

And with that, he disappeared into the night, leaving you with trembling hands and a heart that raced faster than it should.

[cherryobx]

turn the radio up - I have so many songs I want to share with you sjsj. but they all seem difficult to write with bc ofc my music taste is basically really emotional songs jsjs. but a classic that i’ll always love is iris by the goo goo dolls !! maybe that could be a cute one with like comfort or something? but idk, you’re the writer hihi. so do with it whatever you want <3

Iris

summary: you go looking for JJ after a big fight with his dad and it ends with a confession of feelings

a/n: it was supposed to be based on that song but i got kinda carried away so this will have to do lol, also, i was too lazy to proofread so let me know if you spot any mistakes

wc: 1.8k

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of JJ's dad (deserves a warning), happy ending tho

“Have you guys seen JJ?” You barge into the chateau where all of your friends are currently watching a movie on John B’s old and kind of broken TV. Well, everyone except one.

“Weren’t you two supposed to go ‘midnight surfing’ together?” Kiara asks from her spot on the floor. Even if she would’ve fit on the couch, she preferred to sit on the floor as she found it more comfortable.

“We were but he never showed up.” Your voice is full of worry. He never just stands you up like this. He’s late all the time but he always shows up eventually. He’d never do this to you intentionally which is why you’re so worried in the first place.

“He probably just fell asleep,” John B butts in, eyes glued to the TV screen in the corner of the room.

“Yeah, go check his place, see if he’s home,” Kie suggests. “Do you want me to come with you?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Stay and enjoy your movie. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

You rush out of there as fast as you arrived, grabbing your bicycle and biking towards JJ’s house. 

JJ doesn’t live very far away so you’re there in a couple of minutes. In fact you can reach everywhere in Kildare in a very short amount of time. It’s a small place. 

Leaving your bike in the driveway, you creep up to the window of his bedroom. You didn’t want to take the risk of knocking on the door and running into JJ’s dad. It’s a small risk since he’s away most of the time but it’s a risk you’re not willing to take.

The light in his room is not on but the light from the moon reveals enough, he’s not there. If JJ’s not in his room he’s not home. It’s as simple as that. 

Your worry increases. If he’s not at the chateau and if he’s not at home, where the hell is he? 

You walk back to where you left your bike and start walking away from there, pushing the bike beside you. You need a second to think. Where could he be?Why didn’t he call? Did something happen? With his dad maybe? It’s very possible. JJ’s dad is not known for his kind heart and sweet words. You suspect that might be the cause because nothing else could make JJ miss hanging out with you. Especially without saying anything.

Where would you go if you were JJ?

You walk and ponder for a while. There are not very many places JJ would go in a time like this. Usually he goes to the chateau or your place because they’re more his home than his actual home ever was.

Then it dawns on you. There’s this place that JJ showed you a couple of months ago. He made you swear not to tell anyone. Even made you pinky swear. He said it’s his secret spot, somewhere he goes when he needs a moment alone and space to think. 

It’s a really beautiful place and it became your favourite spot too. It’s not far from the chateau but it’s hidden enough to be private. There’s a big oak tree near a small creek. When it’s sunny, the sun shines through the leaves and makes the water sparkle and it’s magical. Beautiful, really.

You’re sure that’s where he must be. 

Hopping onto your bike you ride there in a record time. You leave your bike at the side of the road and push through the bushes and trees to reach this secret spot of JJ’s. Well, yours too now.

And there he is. JJ’s sitting on the ground, on the green soft moss, his back leaning against the oak tree. His knees are pulled up to his chest and his hands are resting on them. Even if he hears you approaching, he doesn’t turn his head to look. He just keeps looking ahead.

It’s even more magical in the middle of the night than it is during the day.

You sit down beside him carefully so as not to startle him. “Hey,” you say softly.

His face is covered in various cuts and bruises.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is raspy and devoid of all emotion. He still won’t look at you.

“I came looking for you. You didn’t show at the beach. I was worried.”

“You shouldn’t have.” He throws a rock into the creek and the splash of water sounds so loud in the quiet of the night. 

“What? Why?”

He stays quiet. His lips are pulled between his teeth as if to specifically stop himself from speaking.

“JJ, talk to me.” You place your hand on his.

“Got into it with my dad again. It’s nothing. Just go.” He shrugs your hand off, physically pulling away from you. It hurts because JJ never denies physical touch from you. In fact, he craves it. He initiates it most of the time. His hands are always on you no matter what. It’s one of the things you love about him so much. Among many other things.

“You shouldn’t be alone here.”

“I don’t want you here right now,” he bursts out, finally looking at you. His eyes are red and so full of hurt.

You're taken aback by his words, mouth agape at his outburst. “What?”

“You heard me. I don’t want you here. So just go home. I don’t care.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Even though his words hurt, you stand your ground and don’t back down. He needs you there. At least, you’d need him in a situation like this, you think.

“Then I’m going.” He stands up and starts to leave. 

You shoot up from the ground and grab his hand to stop him.

“Let go of me.” He stops and stares at your hand gripping his wrist. It must be painful with the way you're digging your nails into his skin but you don’t let go.

“No.”

“Y/N…” he warns, his tone low and angry.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“Let the fuck go of me.” He’s actually angry now but doesn’t make a move. You know he doesn’t actually want to go.

You’re desperate now. “Why won’t you talk to me? I’m right here JJ.”

“I want to be alone right now.”

“Do you really?”

“Yes.” 

“You’re a fucking liar.”

He seems genuinely taken aback by that. “Excuse me?”

“You fight with your dad all the time. And I get it, it’s hard and I’m sorry. But you never pull away from me like that. Never. I know you like the back of my hand, JJ. There’s something you’re not telling me.”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” he snarls.

“Your problems are my problems, right? Isn’t that what you said to me when I was sick last month and you wouldn’t leave my side? What happened to that, huh?”

There’s a beat of silence where the only things heard are the running water, rustling of leaves and your angry breathing.

He sighs and you feel him relax in your grip but you still won’t let go, scared that he’ll flee as soon as you do. 

“We fought.”

“I know.”

“About you.”

Now you’re genuinely aghast. “What?” You blink in confusion, your grip on his hand loosening.

“He said some stuff I can never say to you and I couldn’t see you after that. I couldn’t bear the thought of facing you after the things he said.”

“What did he say?”

“I won’t tell you.”

“Tell me.”

“No. And don’t fucking argue because I will take those words to grave with me. I’ll make sure of that.”

You nod. Maybe it’s for the best.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Am I okay?” he chuckles dryly. “Never been better. I feel like a fucking loser, a failure with an asshole for a dad. And I’m so fucking alone that it physically hurts in here.” He places his hand right over his heart. 

“You’re none of those things, JJ. Not to anyone, not to me.”

“Who’s the fucking liar now?”

“I’m not fucking lying, JJ!” You force him to look into your eyes. “Your dad might be an asshole, a big one at that, but you’re not a failure or a loser. I don’t know how but didn’t turn out like him. You have a future. He threw it away. And you’re not alone. You have us,” you refer to your friends. “And you have me.”

You place your other hand on his hand that’s still on his chest. “You’ll always have me.”

“Not in the way I want. Not in the way I need.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know, I’ve never taken anyone here before.” He looks around his secret little getaway. “You’re the first person I’ve shown it to. The only one I thought it was worth showing to.”

Your eyes remain on his face as he talks, taking in his features. 

“I’ve never wanted to take anyone here before. I didn't understand why I wanted to show you this place so badly. Why it mattered to me if you liked it or not? And then I realized I’m in love with you and I’m absolutely fucked.”

I blink slowly, mouth agape, as I try to process his words. “You’re in love with me?”

“Yeah. And I know it’s stupid and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because it fucking ruins everything. You’re never gonna wanna speak to me again and things are gonna be so awkward and-”

I interrupt his rambling. “Have you even asked me what I feel?”

“What?”

“You go on this tangent about how your feelings for me are horrible but you don’t even know how I feel. So ask me. Ask me what I feel for you, JJ.”

“What do you feel for me?”

“I feel like I want to hit you, JJ. I’ve been in love with you for like… ever and you didn’t even seem to notice. I’ve made it very clear. Hell, everyone else except you knows that I’m head over heels for your stupid ass.”

“Are you serious?” he asks.

“Of course I’m fucking serious, JJ. You think I’d tell you this for shits and giggles?”

“You-” he wants to say something but seems to think twice and before you know it his lips are on yours. His hands are on the sides of your face, pulling you close. You melt against his body, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“That was for shits and giggles.” He pulls away, completely out of breath.

“Totally,” you say and pull him back against your lips for another kiss.

“But I mean it, JJ,” you state when you finally separate again.

“What?” 

“I’ll always be here for you. Through the bad and through the good. Always. I promise.”

“So do I.”

“You better,” you jokingly threaten and he laughs at that. 

“Do you wanna go to the chateau? The others are watching a movie right now.”

He denies your offer. “No, I’d rather stay here with you for now. If that’s okay?”

“It can be arranged.” You smile up at him and his face lights up.

“Good.”

join my picnic!

[moviecritc]

june 18th ⋆ oscar piastri smau

pairing: oscar piastri x singer!reader

summary: everyone thinks that your new album is about break up and that you ended your relationship with your boyfriend

warnings: hate comments

a/n: i used midnights by taylor swift, it fits perfectly with the plot <3

english is not my first language, sorry for the mistakes

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

yourusername just posted!

liked by lilymhe, yourbff and 627,921 others

yourusername life is emotionally abusive... 💎

view all comments

user1 IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?

user2 TEASING A NEW ALBUM???

user3 everybody stay calm GEWUIEORLGNFDSKVBGFDSFG

user4 FINALLYYYYY, it's been almost two years we miss singer y/n

user5 wait why isn't oscar in the likes?? 👀

yourusername just posted!

liked by yourbff, sabrinacarpenter and 923,531 others

yourusername 'MIDNIGHTS' out June 18th 🌙🥀☁️

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user1 sabrina, billie, girl in red and now y/n WE ARE BEING FED

user2 LET'S GOOO

yourbff ok i'm so excited <33

user3 THE COVER, THE MAN AT THE BAACK

user4 it's giving break up album user1 it HAS to be a break up album user5 the tracklist feels very sad

user6 GUYS WHERE'S OSCAR.

user7 this can't be happening rn

user8 JUNE 18TH COME FASTTT

user9 guys, guys, june 18. 18 backwards is 81, OSCAR'S RACE NUMBER

user10 OH WE'RE GOING TO CRY WITH THIS ALBUM

user11 wait but we saw them together past month, i don't think she could wrote the album so fast

user12 idc IT'S GOING TO BE A BREAK UP ALBUMMM

yourusername just posted!

liked by yourbff, landonorris and 941,645 others

yourusername Some pics from the making off of 'midnights' 🌙

ps. when should i drop the first single?

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user1 wait she looks so happy

user2 she's healing from tha oscar guy

user3 DROP IT NOOOOWWW

user4 lando in the likes??

landonorris ���

user5 ok this is taking a weird path now user6 he has never liked any of the posts on yn in all these years AND NOW HE'S COMMENTING user7 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE user8 this wasn't in my 2024 bingo card honestly

oscarpiastri just posted a story!

[caption: ready for the weekend]

replies

user1 tf you think you're to hurt y/n user2 thank god you broke up with y/n, she deserves way better than this user3 not this guy thinking he could pull y/n user4 i hope you don't win any race for what you did to y/n

yourusername just posted!

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yourusername Sometimes all that a girl needs is terrorizing herself for 3:20 minutes. Anti-Hero mv is now yours 🌙🌙🌙

Writing and directing this mv was an amazing experience, huge thanks to all the crew that make this possible.

view all comments

user1 SLAY AND SERVED CUNT

user2 MOTHER

user3 it's giving tyler durden and the narrator ngl

user4 THE "EVERYONE WILL BETRAY YOU" SCENE?? OSCAR YOU'RE DEAD

user5 AND THE ORANGE IS ALL OVER THA MV (that is oscar's color team) user6 WHO TF THIS MAN THINK HE IS?? dude hasn't even achieve anything and has the courage to hurt y/n user7 FRR, i love him when he was supportive with her, but now? he better hide himself user8 oscar we're coming from you

user9 wait oscar is back in the likes

user10 he can leave honestly, we don't want him here

yourusername just posted!

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yourusername I know the album drops in one week, but... here's the Lavender Haze music video. Starring me and @oscarpiastri 💐

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user1 this is probably the most iconic thing anyone has ever done

user2 NOW THIS IS HOW YOU BEAT ALLEGATIONS

oscarpiastri my girl, i'm so proud of you ✨

user4 COUPLE GOALS. COUPLE GOALS COUPLE GOALS user5 oh shut up you were hating on him two days before user3 the fact that LANDO had to interfere bc of all the hate to oscar

user6 i'm so happy for them 💜

landonorris i wasn't aware of that part of you mr piastri

user7 so it's not a break up album

user8 it's literally a love letter 😩😩

lilymhe you guys are the cutest can't wait to the album to drop

yourusername you're so sweet lily 💖 user10 i need them to be friends user11 PLEASE

user9 ugh i'm so lonely

oscarpiastri just posted!

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oscarpiastri happy midnight release day for those who celebrate 💜

tagged yourusername

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yourusername my everything 💜

landonorris booo go get a room

[unholybacon355]

Kinktober Day 6 - Huh Yunjin x M! Reader

Kinktober Masterlist

It was no secret that a lot of people thought that the most beautiful and attractive feature on Yunjin’s face were her lips. Isn't like anyone could doubt her beauty, her almost angelic face, but her lips have something special that makes you have that kind of impure thought no one should have at a church. Not to mention that you were having thoughts about that completely out of place thing with the image of no other than the Pastor's daughter. 

Well, to be honest this was more than just your imagination. Oh boy of course this was more than simple thoughts because as the cliche dictamined Pastor’s daughter of your local church was filthy and rebel, was so far for the angelic girl everything thought she was that is like she has two different personalities.

One was the good daughter that made everything their parents say, and was always at the church on sunday. On the other hand was the girl who escaped through her window at midnight to go to a random party, get drunk, and even a little more.

Now you two were doing one of the most sacrilege things you had ever done. You were sitting in Mr Huh's chair at his office, with your pants and boxer around your ankles, and your hard dick covered in Yunjin's saliva.

The angelic Huh Yunjin was kneeling in front of you in her white dress, with her hair styled in two braids tied with white laces made of silk. This was her outfit for the sunday service her dad was about to give, but you two were taking care of another more important thing. Your sex drive.

Yunjin had one of her hands around the base of your dick, making small movements to masturbate you. And engulfing the rest of your stiff shaft with her wet mouth. The experience of having her perfect and beautiful lips around your meat was glorious, either was the amount of saliva she was putting on this.

Your dick was completely covered with her saliva, till the point some was dropping over her hand making it easier for her to stroke your dick. Also she was putting a lot of effort on practically sucking your soul ot of your penis. Isn't that you have a lot of experience but for you seemed like Yunjin deserve some kind of awar for her technic and expertise doing this.

Some rumors have flied to your ears about your girlfriend sucking other's dicks at those parties she frequently scape to. But you seriously couldn't be mad about that. Who sre you to private the world for this wonderful experience? Also maybe that's the way she bacame so good at this. So is a win win for everyone. Not to mention that as a good church girl Yunjin was saving her virginity for her future husband.

But you were more than happy to wait for more action if in the mean time you were receiving this incredible sloppy blowjobs from her. Also eating her ass didn't cout as actual sex according to your way to see things, so that was a little bit of motivation for you.

The way her cheeks were hollow to increase both of your pleasure, and how her tongue was drawing impossible forms over your tip. Or how she retired her hand sometimes to engulf your entire length till the point her nose was touching your pelvis was driving you crazy. Oh dear Lord! Even her throat was trained to give you the maximum pleasure during those moments, and you knew she enjoyed the power she had over you. Because after all these incredible sessions you always received her wet underwear as a last special treat. Because she loves being at the service with nothing to prevent her flooded pussy from getting exposed than her cute white dress.

In fact Yunjin was a dirty girl and you loved her. How could you not do it when aside from her filthy side she has always been a good and supportive girlfriend? Sometimes you think even better than what you deserve. 

“I-I’m clooose.” You managed to say while she was putting special effort on digging with her tongue on your urethral opening. Her response was taking off her hand from your base and without warning engulfing your entire length. The things her throat was doing to your glans were indescribably pleasurable, and by the way she was holding the gaze staring directly at your eyes you knew what she wanted. So you give it to her.

You shoot your load directly onto her throat, releasing all your milk for her enjoyment. The brightness on her eyes tells you that she clearly loves it. She loves the warm sensation of your semen going through her throat directly to her stomach.

Once the last drop of semen leaves your body she takes your shaft out of her mouth. Gasping for hair, panting to recover the right rhythm of her breathing, but with a smile on her lips.

“Put your clothes back, we're almost running late for the service.” And saying nothing more she takes off her panties, giving them to you. And you clearly could see how the fabric was completely soaked in Yunjin's slicks. “Come on, hurry up.”

[scuderiahalf]

of waning moons and eagle eyes — daniel ricciardo

pairing. platonic/romantic/up for interpretation!daniel ricciardo x reader

summary. goodbyes are hard; for now, we can just stay here a while. 0.5k

masterlist.

.

You stall behind Daniel, hesitating, shifting your weight, trying to think of what you could possibly say. You come up empty.

Daniel doesn’t look at you when you step beside him.

He just says, “If you’re going to tell me you’re sorry, don’t.”

“I was actually going to say you’re a talentless hack who deserves it.”

Daniel’s laugh is sharp and surprised. It feels good to be able to make him laugh, even in a situation like this, even if his face quickly goes blank again.

You follow his gaze upwards. The Singaporean night sky is an inky navy, too much light pollution for stars. But the moon, you can see. A little over half, closer to full than new but still waning. It won’t be a new moon until the month is over. After that, it will wax and repeat the process unto forever. Ever present, ever changing.

“I am sorry,” you say, despite the warning. “It’s not pity. It’s just what people say when a situation is fucked and someone they care about draws the short straw.”

Daniel exhales heavily, slowly. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. I guess.”

He huffs out a half-chuckle.

You stare up into the empty sky for a while longer. It’s well past midnight, now. All the other drivers are gone. Most crew and other staff, too. But not you. Not Daniel.

“How do you even know?” Daniel asks, eventually.

“I have my methods.”

You shouldn’t know. You really aren’t supposed to; it’s a massive breach of security. Luckily, you are just you, and all you want to do with the information of Daniel’s being dropped is be with him.

“I wish they’d at least give you a proper send off,” you voice quietly. “This whole guessing game, making you keep it a secret, not talking about it—it’s messed up. It’s not what you deserve.”

“It’s whatever.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not a world champion.“

“You’re Daniel Ricciardo.”

You put weight into his name because it means something to you, and it means something to the F1 community even if his team won’t give him a proper, respectful goodbye.

Daniel looks at you. His eyes are always so much lighter than you think they are, yellow-hazel like an eagle and sharp, intelligent, emotive. They show a lot. They show so little.

You want to know what he’s thinking. Want to split the skin of his forehead, shave away the bone underneath and peer inside to see how he’s hurting or healing or however he’s feeling. Broken? Elated? Caught up in what’s past or ready to face the next big thing?

You don’t know.

“There’s no one like you,” you tell him. You need him to know. “There’s never been anyone like you.“

Daniel smiles, eagle eyes quartered like the moon. “Thanks.”

His smile fades and you drop your head onto his shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“Yeah.”

Daniel lays his head on yours.

“Me, too.”

[spiriteddreams]

waited around, I should've known you wouldn't show / and I'm just a fool who spent her birthday all alone — maisie peters (birthday) cw: angst

neuvillette, who has to go to the courthouse on your birthday. he says, "the law demands that i be there.” and who are you to argue against the iudex. justice waits for no one, not even you. and you’re only left to wonder if he even remembers if it's your birthday or not. he leaves you with a kiss on the forehead, so brief and chaste that when you step out for the day, the wind seems to wipe it away as if mocking you. and you count the minutes from the moment you wake, as balloons are inflated and then float away, as wax melts down candles one by one and as the day comes and goes. and neuvillette doesn't show. 

and when he returns, house cold and curtains drawn shut, he is greeted by the silence of burnt out candles and opened gifts, none of which are signed by him. the gift that he has brought feels heavy in his hands. guilt guides his figure as he navigates through the hallways once filled with warmth, now devoid of any light, just remnants of a party that he didn't attend. 

and as the clocks hands drag closer and closer to midnight you sit there alone, still halfway hopeful that he'll show. so you can only wonder if he remembers, or if he even cares. actions speak louder than words, and the silence of your home reminds you that to neuvillette, the law stands above all else. and that selfish part of you wishes that for once, he would make an exception for you. for your birthday. because while it is wonderful to spend a special day such as your birthday with your closest friends, there is a small part of you that wishes that if anyone, neuvillette would have remembered, he would have come.

as you drift off to sleep, you miss the sound of the door opening and closing. you miss the sound of footsteps padding across the floor. you miss his guilty eyes, clouded with the dull throb of an aching chest, and the unmistakable shudder of his breath as he steps closer to your tired figure. you’ve pulled the sheets closer to yourself, as if trying to comfort yourself, tugging whatever lingering warmth he might’ve left you with in the morning.

he wonders, how long will you stay like this, how long will you allow him to show up to every moment of your life late, to only crawl beneath the sheets to savor your comfort and warmth in the middle of the night. because it’s unfair to you, neuvillette thinks to himself, and he must be the most selfish man of all to still crave the softness of your heart and hands, a special spot carved out for him. he is selfish, he thinks to himself. selfish and cruel and undeserving of the welcome of your embrace.

and yet you turn around, seemingly in tune with his actions and thoughts. he sees the hurt in your eyes, the dried tears and puffy eyes, the slight part of your lips with angry words ready to spill. but you say nothing and instead untangle yourself from the bedsheets and hold them open for him. you take in his hesitance but still don’t say a word, and neuvillette wonders if the silence is hurting you more than it is him.

“i’m truly sorry,” he rasps out. his voice wavers, fingers tremble and yet you stare at him in the dim light of your room. “i don’t deserve your forgiveness, but—“

“come to bed.” your voice is stern but still kind. for a moment he hesitates again, but finds himself moving towards the bed, towards you, without thinking. your warmth is comforting and familiar, daresay he considers it forgiving. 

“thank you for coming home.”

the clock strikes 12, the sign of a new day, and he finds that he's forgotten to wish you happy birthday.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated

[kitchenisking]

May Fic Rec

Nicotine by honorarystar - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 3,404, sterek)

Stiles wants to take a nap at Derek's place. Derek thinks he smells too amazing for his own good. Or Derek's for that matter.

UST (An Unfortunate Series of Tropes) by ureshiiichigo - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 54,259, sterek)

Stiles and Derek sitting in a tree, M-A-R-R-I-E-D. 

Wait, what? 

Or: Stiles thought he and Derek were finally getting to be bros, and then Deaton had to go and ruin everything with his stupid spell.

For the hour of great humiliation by Naicele - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 8,278, sterek)

There are witches, but maybe they are mostly a plot device to get Stiles and Derek to spend time in very close proximity. -- “Stop that,” Derek growls. “Stop what?” he whines, because, this situation is worthy of some complaining on his part “Stop smelling like that,” Derek hisses, breath hot on Stiles’s ear. “How do I stop smelling? Dude that’s insane,” he whispers back. “What do I even smell like,” he adds and then immediately regrets it. Surely Derek can’t smell that on him, can he?

Point me where my life begins by Gotta_seduce_the_Rainbow - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 39,430, sterek)

When Derek wakes up without his memory, he is left with nothing but a note he wrote himself. He no longer remembers anything personal, not himself, not anyone else.

The note is pointing him towards the town Beacon Hills and once he is there, he is greeted by strangers telling him “Dude, I didn’t know you’re back in town”, which is confusing. Apparently, he grew up in Beacon Hills, but left a few years ago without telling anyone about it.

There is this one stranger, who calls him dude and has the most amazing scent. Derek might just want to start his new life here. With this person.

let’s make a reckless memory by EvanesDust - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 4,283, sterek)

[excerpt] "Stiles…" Derek groaned, his head dropping between Stiles's shoulder blades as he thrust his cock against Stiles's hole. "God, please tell me you know that I love you."

Stiles clenched in response, desperately wanting to be filled, and nodded. They'd only been dating for a week when Derek first told him. It was New Year's, and they'd just kissed at midnight. "Y-Yeah, I know. I know you love me. I love you, too."

And he did. So fucking much.

"Good. Because I'm going to fuck you like I don't."

…or the one where Stiles surprises Derek by coming home for spring break, and they fuck in the sheriff’s station.

Can't Start a Fire Without a Spark by Nerdy_fangirl_57 - (Rating: T, Words: 8,945, sterek)

After the whole ordeal with the nogitsune Stiles struggles with proving to himself that he can be good again. He starts learning to control his spark in hopes that he could be helpful to the pack once he manages to channel it's power. Everyone thinks it's a great idea and are willing to help him anyway they can, but Scott, Scott doesn't see the point in it.

It's not like Stiles' tiny spark could ever be powerful enough to be an actual asset to the pack.

Stiles just wants a chance to prove himself.

Million Reasons by FireAndIceHeart - (Rating: T, Words: 20,474, sterek)

After a nasty fight between Derek Hale's Pack and three witch sisters, Derek kicks Stiles out of the pack. His friends abandoned him and his father is always at work and Stiles has never felt so alone. Well at least now he has the time to think of all the reasons why he deserves to be in the pack and figure out where it all went wrong. That is...until he gets kidnapped.

I'm Only Human by DarkAlpha67 - (Rating: T, Words: 3,477, sterek)

Stiles has always placed other’s needs above his own… And no one ever took the time to notice the strain that burden had on him.

Until him…

*

In which Stiles neglects to take care of himself and ends up in the hospital where he will learn a werewolf pack is just another word for Family.

Hale's Theory of Exclusivity by kitsunequeen - (Rating: T, Words: 4,098, sterek)

For the request: "Stiles visits a wolf rescue/sanctuary type thing (like the one TW donated to!!) and gets really friendly with the pack alpha and then he comes back and Derek is all angsty because /another alpha's scent is all over Stiles/." --- “You’re the one,” he huffs, “you’re the one who was always trying to assure me that my past relationships were unhealthy. That I deserved something better. And this? This is your idea of healthy?”

“Are you seriously throwing that in my face?” Stiles demands, tears suddenly pricking at his eyes. He wipes them away roughly, jamming his hand in his pocket. “That’s- that’s pretty shitty, dude.”

“Are you kidding me?” Derek seethes. How is this happening? How on Earth is this spiraling so badly? “I’m throwing it in your face? You go around pretending we’re exclusive, and I’m the one acting shitty?”

“You know what?” Stiles snaps, tears streaming freely now. The room is swirling with the scents of hurt and confusion and anger and betrayal and- “Fuck you, Derek.”

Happy Son Happy Spouse Happy House by alikatastic - (Rating: Not Rated, Words: 3,085, sterek)

Eli was so much like him, a stark reminder of who he was at sixteen. It was a grand statement of nature vs. nurture. Eli Hale might not have shared any DNA with him, but there was never a doubt that he was Stiles’ son, his pup. Stiles would do anything for his kid; missing sleep after a long case and threatening the Coach were small tasks for him. As long as Eli was happy, Stiles was happy, and if Stiles and Eli were happy, so was Derek.

[s1ater]

better than him.

pairings. matt sturniolo x fem!reader

about. matt is envious of chris for something that was his before chris’.

warnings. foul language probably

ricky is typing… i finally caved and decided to write for my best boy. for my usual viewers, i apologize 😋.

"you deserve better than him... you know that right?"

his voice haunts you.

you let his words sink in while the silence soaks the both of you and your eyes stay closely trained on the cracks in the sidewalk and what you could make out of it.

it's midnight, close to it and there you were, once again left on the front lawn of chris’ house with no chris.

“he even knows it.”

matt’s words strike your heart cold and you hate how it’s him telling you this. you were sure everyone knew it, but everyone always had the curtesy to not say anything, because in the end it didn’t matter. as much as chris was a bad boyfriend at times, he always made up for it. most times.

this however, was not the time.

“want to come inside?”

“no, it’s fine,” you finally moved, facing him. “i’m just going to go home. i need sleep.”

“okay,” he nods his head, pulling his eyes from yours as he seemed more timid now that you were actually looking at him. “need a ride?”

“i drove.”

“oh,” he sounds sad, “right.”

he coughs, it is so awkward, for no reason, and matt knows it’s because of him. he should have just left you out here by yourself like always and just let you go on your own time, like always, but watching you made his heart ache.

“you sure you don’t want to come inside, y/n/n?” he narrowed his vision on you, trying to make it seem like he didn’t really care, but failing. “just for water or..?”

there’s a longing in his voice, like he needed it more than you did.

your eyes hit the sidewalk again, wincing, causing a crinkle in your eye as you think. there was no harm. absolutely no harm, and yet you hesitated, clutching the back of your neck and digging your nails into your skin in desperation for relief of the stress. stress of answering.

“yeah, why not matty,” you gave in, dropping your hand from your neck and taking the first step toward the home easily, like this was the way you would have headed even if you hadn’t said yes. like this is where you wanted to go and to be all along.

he nodded, trying to hide his smile before walking into his own home, not waiting for you.

he knew you’d come.

matt had known you since forever. way before chris, way before nick, way before anyone. and he took pride in that.

he was the reason chris knew you. he forever regretted that day where he introduced you to his triplet, posing you on a stool for the taking. he placed you like a treat on chris’ nose and he ate you up like a dog as fast as he could, with no care.

“i’m surprised your parents keep letting you out of your house this late.”

you sighed, following him into the home, placing your keys on the kitchen counter and slowly mentally undoing yourself, “me too.”

“they know he treats you like this?”

oh, you hate that question.

you’re not sure how to answer it, even as you both know very well what the answer is.

“let’s not do this, matt,” you bit the inside of your cheek.

the two of you have slowed, you’re posed in the doorway of the living room while he’s in the midst of sitting down, but stops himself, looking at you, really looking at you.

matt liked you, a lot.

“okay,” he nodded, slowly. “i’m sorry.”

like a lot, a lot.

“it’s alright.”

to the point he can barely look you in the face. especially now, after all that has happened.

“i just didn’t come in to talk about him. i came in for you.”

he swallows.

fuck.

really, really, really liked you.

“okay,” he finally sits down. “i’d offer my room, but nick would wake up to the sound of us sitting down and he’d be down my throat immediately.”

“no, it’s fine,” you smiled softly, keeping your position leaned against the framing. “i’m not picky.”

“yeah, you’ve always said that,” he scoffed, “yet you’re the pickiest person i’ve met.”

“not true,” you say fast, wanting to trudge across the five feet between you just to lightly hit him. “you were always the who couldn’t make up their mind on things.”

“picky and indecisive are two different things, y/n/n-“

“and yet, both equally a headache to deal with.”

both your heads jerked to see nick in all his midnight glory emerging from around the corner. if it wasn’t his tone of voice to clue you onto his annoyance, his evening attire was enough to let you know he did not want to be up at this hour.

“hey, y/n,” he passes you, lightly patting your arm as you stare at his feet and the slippers that covered them.

you hold back your laugh, “hey, nicky.”

“left in the dust, again?”

“oh, you know so well.”

“wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told me that,” he shuffles around behind you, filling a glass with water. “you two are loud as fuck. please shut the fuck up or like… go talk in the guest bedroom.”

“nick, we just got here,” matt leans on his knees, “you’re being a baby.”

nick is quick to dip his head to the side, an offended look on his face that he’d hope matt would challenge, “excuse me?”

you bite down your smile fast, looking to matt who doesn’t bother hiding his, “okay,” he stands, “okay, okay,” he raises his hands in defeat, but the smile on his face keeps pushing up on his cheeks. “we’ll just go in the guest bedroom.”

“yeah. you will,” nick shakes his head, taking a sip of his water.

the high attitude makes you want to laugh, but you don’t press it. nick was one of the moodiest people you had ever met, and as funny as it was, he was also ruthless and didn’t care for hurting someone’s feelings.

you push off the wall, walking toward the guest bedroom that was right down the hall with matt behind you till nick calls out again.

“matt, can i talk to you?”

you both stop, glancing at the boy who no longer seems to be in his heightened attitude.

“yeah?”

he looks concerned.

“outside?”

you suddenly feel the attention on you, even as neither of them were looking at you. but the tension of nicks stare on matt was undeniably because of you. you could tell.

matt’s eyes meet with yours, as if asking if it were okay, and you nod slowly, then watching them slowly go.

“what’re you doing, man?” the front door had just barely shut and nick was already airing it out. “c’mon matt, you can’t do this.”

“do what?”

“matt,” nick gives him the hardest stare he had ever seen, but it wasn’t harsh. the stare was instead knowing, and almost sympathetic. “what do you think chris would do.”

“chris isn’t here.”

“yeah, i know. he never fucking is half the time, but come on matt. it’s not right.”

“what am i supposed to do?” matt feels a sudden burst of frustration as his arm extends out in expression. “y/n’s my best friend. she was mine before she was chris’. you think he thought about what was right before he kissed her, before he asked her out?”

nick stares at him in silence. the remorse leaks from his eyes and matt can barely stand the look, but he can’t force himself to look away.

“chris doesn’t care, so why should i?”

“because you’re better than him.”

the words hurt even as they should be taken as a compliment. matt should’ve known better. matt was kind, and genuine, and he could never act on his bad intentions even if he wanted to because he knew better.

“yo, what’re you two fuckers doing?”

matt and nick break their held stare upon the loud call out from chris who was suddenly trekking across the front lawn. nick looked to him, while matt kept his eyes planted on the cement of their front porch.

“is y/n here? her car’s parked across the street,” chris places his hands on both their shoulders, his usual cocky perma smile planted on his lips.

“yeah, she’s inside,” nick nodded toward the door.

he nods, but his smile becomes pressed into a half frown, looking between them both.

“what’s wrong with you two?” he narrows his eyes on the both of them, catching onto the awkward silence still holding over them and matt’s lack in attempt to look at him. “you both good?”

“yeah, we’re fine. it’s just been a long night,” nick leans away from the hold chris has on him, rubbing his eyes as if proving his exhaustion. “go talk to y/n.”

he doesn’t believe it.

“matt?”

“yeah.”

“you okay, matty?”

“i’m great, chris,” he inhales through his nose sharply, finally looking up to him as if reassuring him. “y/n’s in the guest room.”

matt’s voice is strictly monotoned, ridding any reassurance he was trying to put out. a strange look crosses chris’ face at the short and dry answer and he’s beyond confused now. he studies his brothers face, to which matt can barely look right back anymore.

“okay…” he glances at nick, “i’ll talk to you two later. unless you want to bring this party inside?”

“we’ll catch you in a minute.”

he goes.

“nice one.”

“yeah, fuck you.”

nick let’s it slide off his shoulder, only looking at him with sympathy, “matt, what’re you gonna do?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs, scratching the back of his head. “same thing i’ve always done. be the better person and get over it.”

[httpskuzuu]

It can't hurt you now

I wrote this while in spain we were in red alert for rain.

Yandere!Chuuya x Reader

I don't now english, let me cry

summary: it's a stormy night and you couldn't be more scared.

tw: idk rain¿ kidnapping, panic attack (maybe)

The rain was pouring down heavily, drowning out the noise of the television. By now you couldn't hear what the announcer of that cheap program was saying.

In spite of everything, you decided to just focus on the images that appeared on the screen, trying to forget what was happening outside. A storm. You felt like a bit of an idiot for being afraid of something like that, not that it could do anything to you, at most, in some cases, flood the streets, but you “live” in Chuuya's attic, so that's not really a problem.

Just this once you are grateful to be locked up here, in a safe place.

A particularly loud clap of thunder completely broke your attention to anything else. You were scared and you couldn't help it, your brain refusing to pay any attention to the TV even though you begged it to. You covered your ears with your hands, trembling as if this was the end of the world, but what if it is?

Slight sobs came from your lips, thanks to them you realized that you had been crying. You don't quite know what you should do, how to stop crying or shaking, until you hear a door opening.

From here Chuuya appears, with an expression still asleep. He makes you look up with a strange gleam in your eyes, was it fear? happiness? You are not sure, although you prefer it to remain unknown. You have enough guilt for the fact that you don't hate him.

Apparently he finally noticed you leaving the bed at midnight, replacing your figure in his arms with a pillow. The feeling of fear settles in your stomach, you didn't want him to be angry, your intention was not to disobey by doing that act. If he took away your earned privileges now, like the TV, the books, your sketchbook, what would you do? This whole week is forecast in heavy rains and storms, no distractions and with a punishment you swear you will die.

“What are you doing here?” his tone conveyed weariness. You remove your hands from your head and look at him with teary eyes. You're supposed to tell him the truth, but you don't really feel like going through the humiliation of saying you're afraid of a little (a lot) of rain.

“Nothing, I couldn't sleep.” It wasn't entirely a lie, the reason for your insomnia that night was the loud noises outside. You thought that if you slept maybe the rain might kill you or some shit like that. Now, come to think of it, that idea was pretty stupid.

A clap of thunder, without warning, fell loudly, causing you to flinch like a frightened animal. A trembling sob escaped your lips, as you tried with all your might to relax and wipe away your tears.

“Hey baby, what's wrong?” Now Chuuya looks wide awake, coming up to you to hold your face in his hands. They were so warm, contrasting with your icy cheeks, you couldn't control the fact that you leaned on them almost unconsciously.

A little comfort now wouldn't hurt, especially in your near panic-stricken state.

The rain intensified even more, as did the trembling in your limbs and your uncontrolled tears. Without much thought, you threw yourself towards Chuuya, embracing him as if your life depended on it. Actually, in your frightened mind, it did.

“So you're afraid of storms, huh?” you were inwardly glad that Chuuya didn't seem annoyed by your stay in the living room, nor mocked by your fear.

Chuuya was always understanding despite his tough temperament, he was especially so with you, giving you all his patience and love even though you rejected him. This is like an opportunity for him to show you that he really loves you more than anyone else will. In spite of that, he hesitates a bit whether to comfort you or leave you lying in panic. Did you deserve his sympathy when you kept walking away from his side? Chuuya decided to ignore that little voice in his mind, he only had to listen to your stifled crying to feel guilty for thinking that.

A soft kiss is placed on the crown of your head. Chuuya strokes your back affectionately and says things to relax you. Finally, just like the rain, your tears stop, and you can lift your head from the man's chest without so much embarrassment.

Now, as you look into his sympathetic eyes, you feel humiliated. You've just let your kidnapper comfort you, plus it was out of a senseless fear. If your fear had been founded, maybe you wouldn't feel so bad. Still, there is a grateful feeling, hidden deep inside you, but there it is.

“Better?” You nod, avoiding her gaze like the plague. “Then let's go back to bed, okay, baby?”

You didn't put up any impediments when Chuuya guided you to the room, the truth is that all that panic exhausted you like never before. You didn't understand why crying was so tiring, but when you lay down on the bed you almost fell asleep in a second if it wasn't for Chuuya.

He gets your attention by putting some earplugs in your ears, carefully so as not to hurt you. Sometimes you didn't understand how he could be so sweet to you in spite of everything, but you were happy about it, you really were.

“Thank you.” Your voice sounds smaller than you'd like, but Chuuya smiles at your words. It's not a smirk or a wicked smile, it seems simply… warm, loving.

You feel strange about your feelings, especially when you feel your cheeks burning. Chuuya kisses your already dry cheek and lies down next to you on the bed, hugging you from behind and stroking your hair.

You could get used to this.

[miyacults]

begging on my hands and knees for a sequel to the daddy gojo fic but w sugu please please please

a/n: my dear nonnie this is less than u actually deserve but i hope it fuels the stsg daddy agenda im pushing here.

violet, blue, green, red to keep me out… i win.

( ft. suguru geto. )

Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.

< part one.

wc: 3k (proofread? probably not)

cw: [ 18+ explicit content minors dni ] technically this is part two of a gojo fic (linked above) but can be read individually so no biggie. fem reader (female bodied). teacher!suguru meaning he did not deflect here okay, we’re living a happy life away from the pain. first one was gojo action so this is for geto action only but poly satosugu is clearly implied, that’s the whole point of this basically hehe. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be very careful! minimal to no prep. unprotected sex. p in v sex. mentions of blood. mentions of death. these two pamper reader too much so reader’s a little spoiled but in the good way. geto is a sweet pretty much. if i forgot anything to put here lemme know. enjoy! <3~

From time to time, Suguru wonders about his soul in genuine distress. Perhaps out of guilt and worry and only in moments like these—well past midnight with bloodied nuckles and heavy footsteps echoing through thin walls, dragging himself up the stairs of the palatial home he and Satoru bought together, with nothing but a familiar sense of anxiety building in his chest. But it’s not like his personal cup of remorse is filled with all the haunting thoughts of the bad things he has done and seen in his life thanks to his sinister line of work, or as if such awful thoughts could actually pull some strings within his untainted heart—because that’s far from being the case.

It’s just—it’s just who he is. The blessing and the curse of being a Sorcerer, of swallowing venom as a whole to save the lives of those who live an ignorant bliss.

White marble stains in scarlet as he approaches his bedroom in silence, mind reflecting on the fact that things should be good now, that everything’s fine and danger has been erased. Any man in love would have handled the situation in the exact way he did, wouldn’t they? He wonders about this, too, quite frequently, and he hates to admit that the question lingers on his brain for far too long for his own liking. It makes him dread the fact that he’s not doing a good job in taking care of you.

Yet it doesn’t matter, as Suguru already knows the answer better than anyone—and he doesn’t qualify much for the kind-hearted-person term (or so he’s been thinking since the last blossom of his youth and the tragedies that showered his naive teen years catches him off guard). But he really doesn’t want to either, because then that would mean that he can’t successfully protect the thing he cares about the most in the world. And he can’t let that happen.

But the look Satoru shoots at him as soon as he opens his bedroom door and finds him sitting comfortably in the wide couch—awaiting his return, as usual—has him breathing correctly again, mind turning back from unwanted ideas that bother him to no end.

“You got busy tonight, huh,” Satoru murmurs quietly, head lolling to the side while scanning his best friend’s tired figure.

“I took care of the scum,”

“And didn’t invite?”

Suguru’s lips turn into a devious smirk, heavy body finally falling between the many soft pillows his large bed has.

“Princess was so upset, needed you to stay by her side,” he resolves quite calmly, dried blood forcing a horrid contrast to his charming features. “If I’m not there to hold her, then you must,”

There’s a silent warning to his words, and Satoru doesn’t have to make an effort to catch it immediately. He already knows it by heart, he always has—he always will.

“She couldn’t stop crying for over an hour anyway,” he ends up retorting sharply instead, hoarse voice weighing a tone of suppressed anger. “Hope you gave the bastard a merciless death,”

How couldn’t he after what he did to you?

The day had started quiet, tranquil—the week itself abnormally peaceful for them. Maybe it was the fleeing summer coercing the unpleasant job of Sorcerers into days of calm, long work hours slowing down and making them believe they couldn’t relax a little bit. So they decided that it would be a good idea to take you to that new coffee shop in Shinjuku you were dying to go lately. And it was fine, of course, you were incredible happy to be outside the walls of home as you hold hands with both them in a sea of smiley people.

Until it wasn’t.

That desolated look on your face when you found yourself trapped into the arms of some Curse User seeking vengeance towards them—Suguru memorized it, because it caused him some undescribable pain he couldn’t possibly explain even if he tried to. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of gleaming tears drying in your cheeks and the sound of broken sobs, garbled whimpers of their names coming out of parted lips as you held onto nothing for balance, unable to stop yourself from breaking down at the fear, the horror, the trepidation it forced your body into a shock.

He couldn’t prevent what happened after they took you back and he tried to calm you down by placing you in Satoru’s lap, hurriedly murmuring something about making it right. It’s gonna be okay, princess, you’re gonna be okay. He won’t hurt you ever again. I’m here to protect you.

Maybe—just maybe—you heard the strained tone that bathed his words in that moment. And maybe you didn’t understand it right away, or maybe you didn’t want to.

Because Suguru has always been there to make things right, and nothing else has to matter when he and Satoru are there to protect you from the dangers of the world.

Like they have devoted themselves to do.

Suguru doesn’t remember the exact time you came into his life—he doesn’t really care to, because he knows you’ve pretty much always been there. He has no idea where do his memories begin or end at, but the teary-doe look of your face has been plaguing the tissues of his brain for so long now he can’t find himself to remember a time where it hasn’t been there.

He remembers his first day at Jujutsu High, during the spring of him being fifteen and you a little less than that, when he saw you adverting everyone’s gaze as you walked behind your mother (an assistant director, of all things) towards the offices in silence—floral dress wrinkly as you seated in some chair and patiently waited for your mom to finish off her work. No complaints but with a huge pout, bored to death.

He remembers the first time Satoru made you cry by telling you you were a weak nuisance (and how he shortly laughed at that), and he remembers the sickening feeling of nausea that infected his stomach shortly after—and he remembers how it didn’t disappeared until he handed you a beverage from the machines and you smiled at him like none of them ever harmed you in the first place.

He remembers you admiring your mother’s ivory dress the day she married principal Yaga, and he remembers the way he took your hand into his to give you a little bit of courage as you and Satoru walked down the aisle side by side, carrying the rings of the newlyweds.

He remembers the winter of Satoru’s eighteenth birthday, when the white-haired man accidentally dropped a box full of the school’s Christmas decorations over you, making you trip down the stairs and hurt your ankle. He remembers the tears that stained his posh pajama pants when you shouted at him—immediately, instantly—crying out his name and seeking comfort. He also remembers the way Satoru moved around you like a lighting bolt, reaching and lifting you up in his arms before Suguru could arrive. Soothing sweet words into your ear, kissing your cheek as he darted a glare in his direction.

He remembers that they both shared the same thought at that moment, even though it was never vocalized.

He remembers how you have always made him feel this sick—as if you’re infesting his body and refusing to let him cure himself off you at all. He remembers because the feeling doesn’t really stops, never has, probably never will, and he has now grow a little too familiar with the lingering explosion of things that do make him feel alive bubbling in his chest. He’s now used to you setting his soul on fire and making him sick.

But it’s special, nonetheless. A sugary sweet method of inflicting pain—as Satoru likes to say.

Because Suguru Geto is not exactly a good person by his own perspective—but he likes to believe he’s a good man to both you and Satoru, for selfish that could be. The kind of man that puts your safety and well-being on top of anything else, the one that ensures both of your happiness above his own. He’s the type of man that allows some of his darkest desires to die in a fire, following what he believes is the right thing to do.

Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.

“Sugu?”

He can hear it clearly, so vivid and bright and sweet it makes him terribly sick all of a sudden. Singsong and gently voice, coated in saccharine sugar echoing through his ears as the most enthralling tone wraps around his name like a prayer, the deliberately long uttering of ‘Sugu’ forcing the curves of his lips to fall abruptly, his heart stopping without notice and an invisible punch to the guts knocking all the air out of his lungs.

“‘Toru, Daddy, where are you?”

Suguru waits—pretends he doesn’t really care as your footsteps sound closer, closer, closer, and his posture maintains, seemingly calm, apparently unbothered, somewhat bored. But, oh, Satoru knows.

Satoru knows as he sits by his side on the obsidian sectional sofa, with legs crossed and arms splayed over the border, that his best friend’s mind is going on a haze, a brand new sense of anxiety crawling under his skin like a thousand bugs eating him alive. Satoru’s almost certain, he’s sure that if he gets a little closer, the violent sounds of Suguru’s heart pounding in alarming violence against his ribs would cause him physical pain. It puts him on edge; the mere thought of his best friend’s reaction at what’s about to happen now.

If it were him, he wouldn’t care. He hadn’t care in the past, actually. Satoru has always been more than happy to let you near the side of him that glows closer to hell than heaven itself.

But Suguru is different, he thinks.

“She’s supposed to be sleeping,” Suguru stares at him blankly, a hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s long past midnight, and she gets all cranky in the morning every time she stays up,”

“She was sleeping,” Satoru stands up, a sigh sliding past his lips while moving to the bedroom door. “But you already know how she gets if she wakes up for water and is all alone in bed. She gets all needy,”

Suguru raises an eyebrow.

“And who’s fault is that, huh?”

“It’s not polite to finger-point, Suguru.”

Both of them stay silent for a bit, carefully paying attention to your sounds. Suguru tuts his tongue when he hears you calling his name near the bathroom hall.

“I’m too bloodied for her to see me like this,”

“Clearly. Just stay there, lemme—,” Satoru scoffs, opening the door and then closing it behind him swiftly before you can catch a glimpse of the inside. “Oi, sweets, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”

“But ‘Toru,” you complain in a hushed whine. “You left me alone, you know I don’t like that. It didn’t felt warm anymore,”

Suguru can’t see you—all he has is a muffled sound of your distorted voice, and he swears he knows exactly the way your lips are pushing the loveliest pout to ever exist, the way you’re looking at Satoru through sleepy eyelashes as you put your little complaint out.

And he also knows Satoru might have rolled his eyes playfully at the sight, pulling you closer to steal a kiss from your frowned lips.

“So needy, my baby is so needy,”

“Is Suguru not home yet?” you ask slowly, perhaps setting your groggy eyes into Satoru, staring at him with that enamored look they both know too well.

“Do you want Daddy?”

“Yeah, I do,” you snort.

“I’m your Daddy and I’m home, so,”

“I want both,” you giggle softly, so sweetly Suguru can feel his insides melt at the sound of your bubbling laugh.

He’s sure Satoru has you entangled in a hug, probably sneaking his hands all over your body and tickling your sides to pull a smile.

“Oh, your dumb Daddy, too. Alright. I dunno where he is, sweets,” Satoru states, as if.

“How mean, ‘Toru.”

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

“Mean. You’re lying to me.”

Suguru smirks at that. He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door to open it and find you both in the exact position he predicted.

And the look you shoot his way, the frown that forms in your face and your pretty features contract in sudden worry when his frame appears in front of you—it all has his heart pounding like crazy, he feels so loved, he feels so full of you. He feels insatiable.

“Oh,” you let out a little squeal as you shift from Satoru’s embrace and into his, “Sugu, you—”

“Don’t worry much about this, princess,” he mumbles, catching you inside his arms like the world depends on it. “I’m okay.”

But he’s sure you’re crying anyway.

And you don’t even stop to think about the blood. You don’t even care that he reeks of death and violence and Curses as you hold onto him for dear life, with arms that wrap tightly around him and pull him closer, closer, even closer; as lips caress the skin of his neck and little mewls echoe softly against his throat. Pants of I love you, I don’t want anything bad happening to you, I love you, fueling his mind like a bomb ready to launch.

Satoru laughs it off with a devious smile.

“Poor baby, you have her worried sick, Suguru,” he falsely chides. “Guess you gotta make it up to her.”

“Uh-huh,” Suguru nods. “My poor princess, do you want Daddy to make it alright?”

You nod in between heavy breaths, head still buried in his neck. Satoru gives a soft slap to your ass whimsically.

“So needy,” the Strongest murmurs, but he rapidly turns away and aims for the stairs. “I’m gonna go find a snack though, I’m starving. And then I’m gonna prepare a bath so you both can meet me there in a bit,”

Suguru nods.

“Go on. Let me take this princess to bed in the mean time, then we meet you in the bathtub,”

Suguru takes you to his large bed and places you in the middle of many soft pillows cooing in your ear to wash the concern out of you, but you’re reluctant. You cup his face and scan him looking for wounds, soon realizing the ugly streaks of scarlet that stain his face are, in fact, not his. But even then you don’t flinch. Instead, you let your hands wander all over his chest—desperate to pull him into you, to merge your bodies and never letting him go, never separated.

“Oh?” Suguru smiles at your scattered words. There’s still blinks of sleep tugging at your tired eyes, and he can’t help but fondle your face cautiously. “Are we merging with Satoru too, hm?”

You nod, sulky little look fighting sleepiness with all you got.

“Of course, Daddy, always with ‘Toru,”

“That’s right, princess. Always with Satoru,”

You inhale a deep breath. It’s easy for Suguru to notice every little thing about you, so he caught up on your train of thoughts before yourself. You were struggling with some words, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, thinking hard about something.

“What is it, baby?” He wonders carefully, hot breath colliding with your face, nose caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he inhales your scent.

“Did you do a bad thing, Sugu?”

The question lingers on his brain for a few seconds, mind resisting on reflecting such thoughts. Yet his expression doesn’t change, he maintains serenity as the brush of skin above yours doesn’t stop. He holds you like a priced possession, like your mere existence could ever absolve the decaying all Sorcerers are damned to. Like you could kiss him and save him, like you could hug him and guard him—as if you could turn blood into holy water or death into salvation.

Maybe you can.

“Will you still love me if I did?” He asks, not dreading the answer.

“I will never stop loving you, Daddy,”

It ignites his body. Fire burns at his fists and he kisses you deeply, mouths meeting around a new heat, with tongues slipping and teeth clashing desperately. He has no intention of letting you catch a break, mouth falling to your neck where he bites at the sensitive skin and causes you to mewl.

“Ow, Suguru, that’s mean,” you grumble, but you part your bare legs anyway when his hands drop and brush at your thighs.

“Can’t help it, princess,” he press a chaste kiss to your lips once more. “You gonna let me play a little with this pretty pussy, yeah?” The words flee his throat in a raspy tone, and his hands don’t stop. He hikes up that oversized cashmere sweater, that can only belong to Satoru, barely above the line of your lacey black panties, enough for him graze it and get a glimpse of your puffy lips against the fabric, awaiting for him. Suguru traces a finger along your cunt, causing you to shiver at the cold digits. “How gorgeous,”

You pant. “But—The bath, Sugu,”

“He can wait a little,” he says into your mouth “Gonna make you feel really good, princess,” he breathes heavily, rocking his hip a little as a thumb strikes tenderly your cunt through your panties.

And he notices right away—in the way you shiver under his touch when he hovers completely above you, how a breathless sigh escapes past your parted lips and your fists grab a handful of his shoulders to attach yourself onto him and make his bulge nudge your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, mouth leaving stray kisses in your neck and already throbbing cock humping your covered pussy through his pants.

“Sugu,” you whine at one particularly hard thrust of his hips, involuntary loud moan reverberating from the back of your throat. “‘Toru,”

“Shh, princess,”

Suguru is fast at parting your panties to the side, and he says there’s no need for prepping you tonight, says it’s gonna be real quick so you can both go back to Satoru—with his cock an angry shade of red as its released free from his trousers and it aims for your tiny hole fast, thrusting in one go. You’re whimpering at how fast it happens, cunt burning at the sudden intrusion since he is usually the one that takes his time to properly prep you to take his cock.

You guess he’s feeling off, so you happily comply if that’ll help him.

“Want you, Sugu, I need you,”

“Ah-ah, my good girl,” he grunts lightly, hands steadying you by the ass as he finally bottoms out. “Can you keep doing that for me? Can you be a good girl?”

A loud hiss vibrates through clenched teeth as you wrap your legs around his hips, head nodding many forms of yes as you inch closer to him in distress.

“That’s it baby, take it pretty,”

“H-Hurts a little, Sugu,” you murmur softly, eyes glued to where he’s slowly sliding in and out.

“I know princess,” he pants. “Give it a minute,” He’s practically caging you shortly after, thrusting up roughly as stretched out walls wrap him and suck him deeply. You’re not given a chance to recover or adjust properly, but the burning does start to fade away. Discomfort grows into pleasure and whimpers turn into soft moans as you bury your face on his neck and his hot breath collides sharply against the shell of your ear. “You’re so brave, my good girl. So pretty, my princess,”

You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, dainty fingers digging the flesh of his shoulders when he grunts. And it doesn’t take long for tears to collect in your eyes as heat floods your body once again, the familiar throb of your clit making you aggravate the hump of your hips so your swollen bud finds a little bit of friction. Suguru doesn’t fail to turn you into a needy mess, strong hand coming to cover the cries emitting from your mouth.

Muffled chants of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, alongside his hoarse grunts and the lewd slap of skin against skin are the only sounds that fly the room when he cums—bruising fingers grasping your flesh harshly as he paints your walls white, and nearly immediately you’re creaming all over the tip of his sensitive cock firmly pressed against your cervix.

“Not leaving you baby,” he pants out. “Not leaving you at all.”

[unfinishedslurs]

RIP Mike Wheeler’s heterosexuality

“Is being gay contagious?”

Steve stares at his phone groggily before putting it back against his ear. “…Mike?”

“Is it?”

“It’s three in the fuckin’ morning is what it is.” He rubs his nose, Mike’s words finally catching up to his brain. “Seriously, Mike? No it’s not fucking contagious, you’re not gonna get the gay disease or whatever from me. I promise you’ll keep liking girls.”

He’s a little hurt, even though he knows the question is innocent. They’ve been asking a lot of questions, like the inquisitive little assholes they are, but none of them had seemed like they weren’t okay with it. Until now.

“…that’s not what I meant,” Mike says. Steve realizes that his voice sounds shaky, even over the phone.

“Then what—“ he cuts himself off, realizing halfway through his bitching that there was only one reason Mike would call about this. “Oh.”

“Can you pick me up?”

“It’s three in the morning,” he repeats, even as he starts wondering where he left his keys. “Your mom…”

“Steve,” Mike pleads. “Please?”

He sighs. “I’m on my way.”

Mike is sitting on his doorstep when he pulls up, head in his hands. Steve doesn’t have to get out of the car, he stalks to the passenger door with all the vitriol of a boy with too many emotions to hold in, and wrenches the door open hard enough that Steve worries he’s going to break it.

“Watch it, noodle arms,” he says, trying to pretend this is normal. Maybe if he acts like it’s not well past midnight, Mike will relax.

It doesn’t work. Mike slumps in his seat, not bothering with the seatbelt. “Can you just drive?”

Steve drives. Doesn’t really know where they’re going, but it doesn’t matter. Just away seems to suffice.

He eventually pulls into a side road

“I’m scared to even touch another guy now! Because apparently hugging is gay when you’re older, and so is sleeping in the same bed, and telling your friends you love them, and…and I’m fucking scared all the time, ‘cause what if they’re right? How do they know? How can they tell by just fucking looking at me? It’s bullshit!”

“Shit, kid,” Steve says, heartbroken. “Shit. C’mere.”

He pulls him close, and Mike turns his face into the crook of his neck, shaking. His shirt collar starts to get damp.

“I don’t know what to do,” he cries. “I thought it was normal, I thought everyone was just…so scared all the time, and we just didn’t talk about it. But then you said that thing about being afraid and pushing it down, and I didn’t— I tried to ignore it. I tried so hard not to think about it, Steve, I swear I tried.”

“I know you did,” he says quietly. It hits him that he might be the only one who really gets it. Eddie gave up denying it long ago, deciding to evolve into something else for them to focus on. Robin’s a girl. Which doesn’t mean jack shit in most cases, because being a lesbian fucking sucks in a town like Hawkins, but girls aren’t as obsessive about it. Sometimes when they compare notes, Robin will just stare at him.

Mike shakes his head. “I don’t know what I did wrong,” he mumbles tearfully into his shoulder.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Steve says with a surprising amount of vehemence. He grabs Mike by his scrawny little shoulders, pulls him away so he can look directly into his bloodshot eyes. “Not a damn thing, do you hear me? There is nothing wrong with you, and anyone who tells you otherwise deserves a swift kick in the balls. Got it?”

Mike responds by bursting into loud, messy sobs.

Steve just keeps holding him, running a hand through his hair and soothing him gently, like he wishes someone had done for him or Robin or Eddie when they were young. Finally Mike pulls away, embarrassment starting to set in.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Steve asks instead of a meaningless platitude he knows Mike wouldn’t accept.

Mike gives him a suspicious look. “I guess.”

“I’m scared too. All the time.”

“No you’re not,” Mike snorts. “You don’t need to make me feel better just because I’m a pussy.”

“I’m not joking,” he says. “Why do you think I dated girls? Why do you think I went through so many lengths to hide it? It’s fucking terrifying, man. But you know what makes it less scary?”

“Dating girls? Marrying a woman?”

“No.” He pokes Mike’s chest, right over his heart. “People. Friends who love and accept you. Friends who know what you’re going through, even.”

“Do you…” Mike chews his lip. “Do you think Nancy would be okay with it? With me?”

“Absolutely I do. She was okay with me, wasn’t she? And I was her boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but it’s different when it’s your family, right? Sometimes people don’t care if someone is… people don’t care until it affects them. Do you think Nancy is like that?”

He knows Nancy isn’t like that, but that's a talk they’re going to have to have themselves. “I really don’t,” he encourages. “I think she’d be really glad to know this part of you, actually. She loves you.”

“…I know,” he says, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t… we made this dumb no secrets pact the first time the Upside-Down happened, I don’t know why. It’s stupid. But…I don’t want to keep secrets from her anymore.”

[aceviscontiswife]

Late Night Visit | Danny Johnson

Danny pays you a visit after a very successful night, you help him celebrate.

I figured that since I started this blog with Danny, I should return from my very long absence with Danny.

Afab!Reader. Warnings: 18+!!! PRE-ENTITY! Pre-established relationship. Little plot before smut, lots of f-bombs (sorry), Talk/descriptions of murder, Mating press, degradation, talk of murder during sex, overstimulation. NOT PROOFREAD… oops.

It was a cold, rainy, miserable night in Roseville. Most people were staying home, curled up in bed and sleeping to pass time. Danny was not, nor was the woman whose life Danny had worked so hard to take. She was a fighter… something Danny had not expected but he eventually managed to take her down. Her screams were like music to his ears, and the bloody scene her murder had left? Tonight was a success.

However, Danny was left feeling pent up. He had to tell someone about how good he did, about how skillfully he dug his knife into that woman’s chest… he needed you. God, you were the best reward he could think of, and Danny definitely deserved his treat. Despite it being nearly midnight, Danny began making his way to your apartment, still wearing his bloodied cloak and mask. Not like anyone would notice him anyways.

***

You were woken up by a tapping on your window. The rain had died down a while ago, so when the tapping didn’t stop you figured you might as well see what was going on. Flicking on your bedside lamp, you look on in shock as you spot what was causing that annoying tapping.

Danny?

Did he have no fear of getting caught? He was covered in blood, still wearing his signature Ghostface outfit, and practically banging on your window! You get out of bed, only wearing one of Danny’s shirts—that he had left here the last time he came over, and quickly open your window.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You whisper harshly, helping Danny inside before shutting your window and looking up at him with the most annoyed yet concerned look you could muster. “I’m not allowed to pay my girlfriend a visit?” You could practically feel him grinning at you from under his mask, Danny knew how to get on your nerves quicker than anyone. He also never stopped by your apartment after one of his… nights, at least not without having changed first.

“You are, but… why?” Your question was only met with a chuckle as Danny reaches up to take his mask off, revealing the face you had come to love more than anything. As well as a look in his eyes that seemed to answer your question before Danny could. “Tonight was amazing, doll. I can’t wait to tell you how well I did… but right now, right now I need you more than anything.” His words brought heat to your face as well as your core, a tingle running down your spine as Danny takes a step closer to you, his eyes practically undressing you then and there.

Danny got like this after a successful kill. Before you came along he would just handle things by himself, but now that you’re here? God, he couldn’t wait to have you. Without waiting for your response, one of Danny’s gloved hands grab your chin, tilting your head up until your eyes met his. Danny wasted no time in quickly pressing his lips against yours, the lustful urgency behind his moves enough to make you whimper against his lips.

Danny guides you towards the bed—you blindly stepping backwards until the back of your knees came into contact with your mattress. Danny gives you a soft push, breaking the heated kiss and causing you to fall back onto the bed in the process. Looking up at him, you could see just how badly Danny needed this. He wasn’t himself, no, he was Ghostface—primal, bloodthirsty, and ready to get what he wanted. Arousal rushed through your system at the sight, and you were sure your panties were already getting soaked.

“Fuck,” Danny starts, already beginning to take off his cloaks. “If you don’t want this, then you better say it now doll.” Danny pauses for a moment, giving you one chance to back out. You knew what you were getting into, you might be the one and only person Danny loves, but he would always put his needs first—and his need was you.

“I want this.” You reply, a lustful tone dripping off of your tongue that you had never heard before. Or at least not this intense. Danny only nods, continuing to removes his cloaks until they fell into a heaped, bloodstained pile behind him. A smile paints his features, dark brown eyes somehow darkening as he begins to undo his belt. “Good.”

His belt now undone, Danny tosses it aside and unzips his pants, letting them fall to his ankles before kicking them aside. He was left in his boxers, his bulge straining against the fabric and a wet patch forming where the tip of his cock would be. It was now your turn to undress, and you wasted no time in doing so. You took off your shirt, about to take off your pajama pants as well before Danny swatted your hands away and did it himself. He chuckles upon seeing how wet you were, the sight spurring him on even more.

“Fuck it, I can’t wait any longer.” It was Danny’s version of a warning, and before you knew it he was on the bed, pinning you under him. Your legs wrap around his waist, but Danny grabs the back of your thighs and pushes your legs back until your thighs were pressed against your chest. Danny pulls his boxers down, pulling away just long enough to finish taking them off and tossing them with the rest of his clothes.

Your panties however, were simply moved to the side. Danny couldn’t be bothered with taking them off. “You’re already so wet, doll… did seeing me all bloody really get you that fucking excited?” Danny clicks his tongue, lining his cock up with your entrance. No prep, but with how eager Danny was, you didn’t expect any. His words sent a spark of arousal down your spine, your pussy clenching against nothing as your clit practically begged for attention.

“Please, Danny—“ You were cut off by Danny, who suddenly pushed into you without warning. Your heels dig into his shoulder blades, a strained gasp escaping your lips as your eyes screw shut. Danny groans, pumping into you at a quick pace. “This what you wanted? To be pounded like the slut you are?” You didn’t respond—you couldn’t respond, a loud moan interrupting any of the words that wanted to leave your mouth.

Danny growls as he thrusts into you, reaching down to kiss and bite at your neck, leaving marks that you were sure everyone would see the next time you went out. Neither of you cared, however, as Danny chuckles suddenly and pulls back, grabbing your chin and forcing your attention to be on him.

“Wish you could’ve seen it, doll… she was—fuck, she was screaming so loud, had me worried for a second that someone might hear.” Was he really talking about that now? Anyone else would have been utterly disgusted, but for some unknown reason, it only turned you on more. “She bled so much… Stabbed her so. many. fucking. times.” Danny groans, a moan escaping his lips as he drills into you, hands grabbing the back of your thighs and locking you into the press he had you in.

You could already feel that all familiar knot growing in your stomach, your gasps and moans growing louder and needier as you try to warn Danny. “D-Danny-! ‘Can feel it- don’t stop!” Danny laughs at you, not easing up on his brutal pace whatsoever as he brings you closer and closer to your peak. “Look at you, already about to cum. Such a whore, barely started and she’s already gonna cum.” His words, while rude, were all you needed to topple over the edge, your pussy clenching around Danny’s dick as you cum with a strained gasp and yell of his name.

Danny could feel his orgasm building closer, but he held it off, fucking into you until you were writhing and squirming under his grasp, hands grabbing at his biceps as you try to escape the painfully pleasant overstimulation.

“Gonna fill this pussy up with my cum—shit, you feel so good. ‘Feels better than killing that bitch, that’s for fucking sure.” You cry out as Danny’s pace begins to grow sloppier and sloppier, still managing to hit all the right places, leaving you seeing stars. Tears of ecstasy were dripping down your cheeks, only filling Danny’s darkest desires as he bring a hand up to cup your cheek—the softest thing he’s done so far, his lips crashing against yours.

Danny groans, muffled against your mouth as you feel his hot cum fill you, his thrusts only letting up for a moment before they start back up. You weren’t sure how much you could take, but Danny didn’t seem to care. You were in for a long night, and you knew it.

You whimper, squirming underneath Danny as the pleasure begins to be too much. Danny knew exactly what he was doing to you, and he’d be damned if he stopped any time soon. “You wanted this, doll. I’m not stopping until you’re practically full of my cum.”

***

Trying to get back into writing after taking a freakishly long break is… hard. Still, I hope you enjoyed this (that I totally wrote at 1am & while super sick)! Love ya. ❤️